Pale Young Gentlemen
Black Forest (tra la la)
(Science of Sound, 2008)

Anyone who remotely follows indie rock (and chances are, if you’re reading this review, you probably do) is well aware that there’s been a gypsy-folk revival in recent years. There’s the mellifluous, orchestral caravan sounds of Devotchka, the Ukrainian by way of Brooklyn accordion-punk ruckus of Gogol Bordello, and, of course, that brassy New Mexican wunderkind, Beirut, to name only a few. All of these bands borrow heavily from a transient, European folk tradition that few can legitimately claim as their own heritage.

And yet, despite this recent trend of worldly influence on the kids, I’m still shocked that the Pale Young Gentlemen, with their eclectic Eastern European instrumentation, crooning vocals, and gypsy-like theatrics, hail from Wisconsin of all places. Why, despite living in the age of the internet, do I find myself wondering how their sound is geographically possible? It’s the same sorts of doubts skeptics voiced when they first learned Zach Condon was from New Mexico and not the Balkans, but hey, they took to him, so now perhaps it’s Pale Young Gentlemen’s turn to be embraced. Seriously, who gives two craps about authenticity when the French horn and viola are being played this melodically?

Pale Young Gentlemen’s sophomore album, Black Forest (tra la la), is lusher, albeit a bit more subdued, than their rollicking 2007 self-titled debut. The strings are especially gorgeous and much more prominent this time around. The cello swells and violins sway in such an intricate, lovelorn way. Andrew Bird would be proud. Perhaps even more significantly, the Gentlemen manage to sing “tra la la” in a way that makes me totally forget that Eurotrash YouTube phenomenon Gunther even exists. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is a huge accomplishment.

“The Crook of My Good Arm” exemplifies all their strengths as a band. It’s a frisky number with brisk percussion, bubbly strings, and a chorus of “run, run!” all held together with a menacing cello backbone. Elsewhere, things are a bit mellower, but no less compelling. The gloriously harmonized “ohs” and “las” of “Marvelous Design”, the plucky “Wedding Guest”, and the tinkling xylophone accents on “Kettle Drum (I Left a Note)” are among the highlights of this beautiful headphone trip to a faux Bavaria.

If there are complaints to voice, it might be that Black Forest is a little too cohesive. And while the album sounds a bit same-y throughout, it’s a lovely sound at that and never ever sags. For the most part, the charming old-timey aesthetic holds up convincingly well, or at least well enough to render pointless any debates about their authenticity. These five gentlemen (and one lady, too) have created a neat little record that defies time and geography. Who knew Madison, Wisconsin had it in it?

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]

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